So here is a question....how can one hate isolation when there is everything there but you do nothing to grab it?  How can you want a companion yet everything you do is singular.....?

If you can even answer that you are just as fucked up as I or a psychiatrist....God my spelling sucks so deal....

"I just wanna say goodbye
Disappear with no one knowing...."

Really?  Or am I my own worst hypocrite?  Am I?  Or are rhetorical questions my singular best trait?haha

Sorry for being bitter.....

Shit happens....

I was told - "Man, Zach, when you got kids its that one instance where they are happy that makes all the cussing worth it...."  Then "Hey what did I tell you happens to people that act good?"  Kid replies "Good thangs hapen..."

He walked off and I said wait til he gets to the real world and realizes that "shit happens" and life sucks....you know what?  Out of the 5 or 6 adults there listening, not a single one disagreed....

Is that what I am to look forward too?  Something that I hate so much yet I feel obligated to lie to a fuckin kid just to pass the time?  WTF?

Sometimes I just want to scream fuck it all and leave, go away forever....be a fuckin bum on the street I don't care...but then I want to know what I am...

Well right now all I am is a failure....

So sorry xanga, you have to get my bullshit with no rewards....I'm too tired/drunk to write....

What makes it worth it?

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After the many man years of traveling alone, I still remember that first sight.  After what I know now I should have realized what was happening.  I should have realized everything, but I did not.  On judgment day, that will be my crime.  For never knowing when I should have felt it.

It was raining that night.  I remember because the fog rising from the still warm sewers clouded any human vision.  I was walking, contemplating life I suppose, already sated from my meal of rabbit and fish earlier.  Yes I admit I can kill people without mercy, without fear of damnation, but I did not prefer to just slaughter humans.  Not after what happened to me, not after what I suffered. 

I did walk the streets at night to see if anyone would tempt me.  Who could not have their pleasures?

I do remember pondering my strength, pondering why I was still alive.  But that could have been a million thoughts before, during, or after that and I may never know for sure.  What I do remember so starkly that even now it haunts my dreams is her crying.

She sounded so small, so minute a creature, but then again I was very, very old.  Her cries touched a part of me that I thought I had lost so long ago, a passion, not for death, but for life.  Her cries created in me a sense of caring, for her cries were truly screaming in her sense of abandon.

I came upon her in an alley, though she was not deep within it.  She was crouched next to a dumpster, her small back leaning against it.  I started at her appearance, which awakened something so long ago lost.  Her black hair clung to her body, being a little past her shoulder blades in length.  Her pale skin sparkled with tiny drops of rainwater and her eyes, her green eyes, spoke of a thousand tortures of loneliness.  She wore a white night gown that stuck to her minute frame sensuously, although I doubt she even realized it.

She looked completely lost and afraid.

I walked closer, knowing that her human mind could not pick up my steps or my presence.  Which was why I was completely taken aback when she looked up in my direction with a hint of steel in her eyes and asked me, “Who is there?”

I decided impulsively to reveal myself to her.  To this day I do not know if it was me or her, but regardless what occurred was meant to be.

“Just me,” I spoke in my deep, resonating tone that I had developed after some years.  I saw her flinch back from my voice and felt responsible.  “I will not hurt you.” I promised and for once actually meant it.

She was shivering and I could not discern whether it was from my unknown presence or her coldness from the rain.  “Please, sir, can you help me?” she stuttered, her teeth actually clinking together.  “My name is Gabrealla.”

Something again stirred inside of me at her name.  Something felt right, felt correct.  “I am Aiden,” I replied, stepping into the dimmed light, “and I have to ask, what brings one such as you out here?”

I must have sounded threatening, because she immediately curled tighter into a ball and whispered desperately, “Do not hurt me please.”

She reminded me of Loriel.  Her small frame, her pale skin, her vivid green eyes.  I felt something deep within me stir, something that had lain dormant for many, many years.  “I will not hurt you, love,” I said, my voice deep and soft as I could make it.  “I can help you if you want.”

Her eyes looked at me pleading, instinctively trusting the truth of my voice.  It was one of the many things I learned as an immortal was the sound of a voice could speak a million more words by its tone.  I held my hand out towards her and she tentatively reached up and placed her life into my hand.  I helped her up and pulled her close, noticing the clinginess of her nightgown, feeling the stirring in my loins and the tightening of my chest.  God what was wrong with me?

I pulled her close to me, letting her body curl up into mine, the top of her head barely reaching my shoulder.  I wrapped her with my arms, hugging her close so she could get as much warmth as she needed.  “Why are you out here?” I asked her.

“I do not remember,” she said, crying softly, “T-the dream...”

She shook her head as if she wanted to forget it.  I let her, knowing that sleep walking or a nightmare was enough to scare sleep away, making it hard to think about the logicalness of your actions.  “Come with me,” I said as assuring as I could muster forth.  “Let me take you home.”

I cut through the alley, something of course that a normal person would not do, but normal I was far from.  It was a shortcut to my humble abode on the outskirt of the city, a ramshackle place in much need of repair, but stable enough for my tastes.  I never stayed anywhere for very long, maybe a few decades or so, but no more.  People notice a man that does age after awhile.

The alley was dark and I hardly ever had trouble, but tonight fate was acting on her own accord.

“Well, well now, lookie here,” came a gruff sounding voice.  The owner materialized out of the darkness, his shaved head marked with tattoos and rainwater.  He wore a T-shirt with some indecipherable band name on it and blue jeans that were probably getting their first wash in days in the pouring rain.  He wore the seemingly wicked smile that all muggers and rapists wear when they see an easy target within reach.  Tonight was his very unlucky night.

I then noticed three other shadows walking slowly up behind him.  Damn.  She had not noticed them yet, her face buried in my chest, trusting me to lead her to safety.  I knew I could not change for she would be scarred, possibly driven insane as it happened to one unlucky fellow that happened to be in the wrong part of the woods at the right time.

The obvious leader waited until his buddies crept up beside him, all looking at me with their pathetic evil intentions.  Two of the guys looked like brothers, same brown hair and eyes, wearing both dirty, green t-shirts and holey jeans.  Their skin was dark, indicating that they were either mixed breed or just light skinned colored race.  I did not care which.  The other guy was the token fat guy in any troupe, his belly hanging disgustingly over his jeans, making the buttons of his flannel shirt work their damnedest to keep him from busting out.

I smiled at them, noticing how it unnerved their once solid reserve.  When does an obviously outnumbered victim ever smile in the face of his doom?

“You might want to rethink your position,” I said calmly and at my voice, the girl looked up and whimpered in fear.  I guided her behind me and stood straight and calm in the face of my attackers.

“Wot?” the fat guy said incredulously.  He pulled out brass knuckles and his troupe copied his lead.  Now there were four attackers with brass knuckles, two knives, and what looked like a bent pipe of some kind.  I almost felt like I was in a movie, a really bad one.  “Y’think we gonna stop muhfucka?  Best jest to hand ova ya shit and ya bitch and be done.”

“Try me,” I said determinedly.  They could not see it of course, but my skin was rippling, the anger wanting me to change, wanting me to give in to the power.  I could not though and instead focused my energy on building up my strength.  My punch would be like iron.

The leader came at me first, brandishing a small pocketknife.  He lunged at me like an amateur knife fighter and I grabbed his wrist pulling him too me.  I let his arm slide beside me and gripped his arm by his elbow on my side.  The others rushed me but they there was only one on my side, the fat guy.  I slammed my right foot into his chest, removing his breath from his lungs and hearing one or two ribs crack under the pressure.  His body flung back against the wall, his belly jiggling. 

As he was flung back I jerked my arm behind me as a pulled my body to the left.  The hardness of my abs did not give way to the leader’s body, but his elbow did.  He screamed in pain and dropped to the ground, holding his arm.  The brothers were right on top of me, one with a knife and the other the pipe.  The one with the knife reached me first, using the slash approach.  I threw up my left arm, connecting with his right wrist, throwing him off balance and into the charge of his look alike.  I brought my fist in and it connected with his face, squarely on his jaw.  I felt his jaw bone shift over, unable to handle the energy behind my punch.  His eyes glazed over and he slumped down.

I had to give his double credit, for he had moved quickly.  The pipe came across my temple on the left and I realized that it was not a pipe, but a steel bar.  Not that it mattered, for although the rod cut my skin and cracked my skull, I was the stronger.  The pipe bent around my head and the astonishment of the attacker at my lack of unconsciousness gave me the precious seconds to finish him off.

I twirled my entire body in a circle and pushed myself towards him, my right arm cocked and ready.  I came down on his left temple with my fist and felt his skull crush under my knuckles.  His brains poked out of the cracks and when he collapsed it was from death.

A knife then pierced my side.  I cried out, more from surprise than pain, and twisted to my right.  The action forced the blade out, along with the help of the leader, who was now using his right arm.  He caught my elbow in the face before he could think about stabbing me again.  His nose made an audible crunch and blood spraying on him and my shirt.  As he stumbled back I reached for his throat with my left hand.  Once I grabbed his weedy neck, I squeezed and shifted my thumb to the left and up, dislocating a few vertebrae in the back of his neck.  They snapped and his eyes went blank. 

I dropped him to the ground and heard a wheezing behind me.  I turned and saw the fat one laying against the wall, fear avidly twitching his eyes left and right.  “Please, I-I’m sorry,” he managed, shaking his head that he was done.  I huffed at him and turned to find her, Gabrealla.  She was hiding by a dumpster.

I motioned for her and she ran towards me, grabbing me around the waist fiercely, as if I were a lover that had been gone for too long.  Unfortunately her hug crossed over my knife wound and I yelped softly, my adrenaline calming down and the pain focusing on my mind more.

“Oh my, you’re hurt,” she said, realizing her mistake and letting me go quickly.

“It’s all right, just a mere scratch,” I said, trying to calm her down.  “Quickly, let’s go on to my home where I can take a look at it.”

She nodded in agreement and took my hand, letting me lead her.  I once again noticed her body, her small but perfect breasts, her tight stomach.  Again, the tingling coursed up my body, emanating from my groin, the pain forgotten for a few brief seconds.  Before I could even question myself I remembered the pain and slowed down my healing process.  Of course this would be more painful for me, but if I were to heal by the time I made it home it would seem rather odd would it not?  Especially with such a knife wound.  I was unsure whether she had seen it or not, but I had to play it safe. 

We took a right at the end of the alley and walked up the street.  We were already close to the end of town for just a couple of blocks later, the buildings ended and the forest and grasslands began.  Onwards, about a quarter of a mile, was my home.

“You live a ways away, maybe we should have found shelter in the city,” she said, eyeing me worriedly.  “You are hurt and probably should not be walking.  God where is my mind, I am so thoughtless sometimes.”

I smiled at her warmly.  The rain was starting to let up, but it did not matter we were both soaked through.  Jeans are really uncomfortable in the rain, but I was used to it for I always walked in the rain.  I had my hand on my side, pretending to stop the blood flow for human visual purposes, but I had already taken care of that with my mind.  This shirt would never be used again, with my blood and the leader of the doomed gang’s blood splattered on it.  “I am perfectly able to walk to my home,” I said, stemming her worries.  “Where else would we have gone, the mile and a half to the hospital?”

“I could have at least went to get my car,” she said softly, smiling at my remarks.

“How do I know I can trust you?” I said, looking at her mischievously.  Her laughter broke my heart and almost made tears swell in my eyes.  God she was so beautiful.

“Good point,” she agreed, looking down in false embarrassment.  It was then she noticed what she was wearing.  “Oh dear Lord, I’m a street hooker!” 

She used her right arm to cover her chest as I laughed heartily.  This was a good sign; it revealed that she was finally getting her senses back. 

“I think I would have raped me looking like this,” she commented and I laughed again.  She joined weakly, but I could tell that her appearance bothered her.

“Please,” I said, still smiling, “You must understand, if I had not seen your beautiful body I might not have helped you.”

Even in the darkness I could see her blushing.  “Most men would have done differently, I think.”

“If you do not know by know I am different from all men,” I responded, my voice subdued.  Only I truly knew the irony.  I even said all men, but she did not catch it.

“Yes, indeed you are,” she agreed, stopped suddenly and turning towards me.  She leaned in close and removed her arm from her chest.  She crept up on her toes and, putting her hands on either side of my face, kissed me delicately, as if she were really unsure of what exactly she was doing.  “This feels right,” she muttered too me, looking deep into my eyes.  I felt my barriers crumble, my heart opened for the first time in centuries.

She had no idea.

I wrapped my left arm around the small of her back and pulled her close.  I brushed her cheek with the back of my right fingers.  She was so minute compared to me, so fragile.  What was I doing, I screamed at myself as I answered her kiss with one of my own.  I drew in all of the passion and love that I could find and sent it through her lips.  I felt the electricity between us, two completely different beings standing in the rain.

I pulled back slowly, seeing the flush in her cheeks.  I felt her body trembling because of her knees.  “You do know I still have a knife hole in my back,” I smiled at her, but I do not think she heard me; her eyes were lost in mine.  I pulled away and she shook her head, clearing the entrapment my mind had set for hers. 

I was silently berating myself, for I should have shut down certain parts of my mind.  An immortal can ensnare a human being easily, without a second thought.  I did not want to capture her, I wanted her willingly and freely, yet I almost had her complete and utter subversion to me.  I had to be more careful, she was too precious to me.

“Wow,” she whispered.  “Come, let’s quit being foolish and get to this house of yours.”

I ascended my agreement and we went on, not talking about what had just happened.  I hoped I did not scare her off by almost trapping her and then letting her go.  Prey once caught will not easily be caught again if freed.

It was just a few yards further.  The house I owned was bent in the middle, almost as if God himself had pressed a finger on it, causing the middle to bow inwards and the outer edges to appear higher.  I did fix that part of the roof though and it did not leak any longer.  It was two bedrooms, though the other bedroom had a wall missing and so was open to the outside.  I had just covered the inside flooring of the room with rubber lining to keep the leaking from spreading when it rained and barred the door.  The bricks appeared ready to crumble with the slightest disturbance, but they were sturdy enough.  Two of the windows of the house were covered with “”””plastic paper”””” to keep the air out and the back door was forever locked by somebody’s artwork of two by fours. 

I led her through the front door, which led to the nicely sized living room that was barren of any furniture save a futon and a small TV.  The carpet had so many stains that it looked purposely a darker shade than it originally was supposed too.  In the back right was an open doorway that led to the kitchen and dining room, both combined with tile floor.  Nothing in the kitchen worked save the dirty refrigerator and the counter tops were all cracked.  The dining room possessed a small table and two rusted, metal folding chairs. 

To the left was a small hallway that ended with a broom closet with a broken door.  On the right side of the hallway was the dreaded second bedroom that would probably never see another human being until a construction company came and tore down the house and a full bathroom.  The toilet in the bathroom did not work, its insides all rotted out from disuse, but the shower did, although hot water was usually out of the question.  He had promised himself that he would fix the water heater, but he never got around to it.  With his present company, however, he knew that he had to do something for her to be able to take a shower and relax.  On the left of the hallway was the closed door to the master bedroom, Aiden’s living area.

“Wow, don’t really care for much around here do you?” she asked, her eyes wide in disbelief at her surroundings.

“I move a lot,” he said defensively.  “There isn’t a point in renting or buying a nice home when you do not live there long enough to get your money’s worth out of it.  Besides, I never ask for much anyway as long as I have a roof over my head and food to eat I’ll be fine.”

“You forgot about clothes,” she said, arching her eyebrow in an amused expression.

“Who needs them,” I said off handedly.  “I’ll just join a nudist cult.”  She laughed at my comment, her laughter warming my soul.  I knew then that I needed to sign up to the ‘love at first sight’ group, because I felt smitten and uncontrollable.  “Besides you have not seen my bedroom yet, so don’t completely finish your judgment.”

“Well then, good sir, lead the way.”  She laughed again, hooking her arm into mine and motioning for me to lead the way.  She suddenly stopped, a shocked expression on her face.  “Dammit, you have let your wound slip my mind.  What do you do to me?”  I just shrugged my shoulders and smiled.  What had she done to me?

“Where is a cloth or something, take off your shirt, go to the bathroom, does the sink work?”  She suddenly was in charge and marched towards the bathroom, dragging me behind her.  I felt like I was a kid, being taken care of by his mother, and the feeling was wonderful.

She managed to find a clean cloth and rinsed it in the dirty sink, shaking her head in disappointment at the sloppy place.  I took my shirt off as she was wetting the cloth.  When she turned she gasped, eyeing my bare chest for the first time.  I was a large man, topping just at six and a half feet and every inch of me was muscle.  I had a little black hair on my chest and navel, but not enough that a woman could not run her fingers over my body.  People often think werewolves are hairy even as people, but this misconception is false.  I did not possess super defined abs, but the hint of steel was there.  I saw her face turn red as she looked away.

“See something you like?” I goaded.  Her eyes flashed angrily at the challenge and she faced me fully before answering.

“Nothing I can’t find elsewhere,” she said confidently, but I could hear the lie in her voice.  She was as taken by me as I was her, there was no doubt now.  She pressed the cloth against my side using her left hand to support herself against my chest.  Her touch was fire in my veins.

“You seem to heal rather quickly,” she noted.  “But you are covered in scars!”  I laughed at her because she had been staring at me for minutes now and had just then noticed the extensive coloration of scars all across my body.  Some things cannot be completely healed.

“Rough life, I guess,” I said nonchalantly as I could.  “I mean look what happened tonight.”

“Hmph,” she answered.  “Luckily that knife did not go very deep or we would have to get you to the hospital.”

In reality the knife had gone very deep, but I knew what would have happened had she seen that, so I healed it on the inside, creating what appeared to be almost a scratch.  “Yes, I was lucky in that I was turning away from it so it only nicked me and did not puncture so deep.”

She cleaned my side and my head without another word and asked for bandages.  I did not have any gauze, so she used four small band aids to cover the wound.  Hell she was lucky I even had those.  They might have been left by the previous occupants.  They still stuck to my side and I thanked her for her efforts.

“No need, after what you did for me,” she said, smiling brightly.  She had forgotten her attire once again, but did not seem bothered by it, trusting in my integrity.  She was so beautiful.

“Can I finish the tour of the palace now, my lady?” I said, taking on a haughty accent.  She laughed and again looped her arm in mine as we crossed the hallway.

The rest of the house may have been in tatters, but my room was not.  I liked to keep my small living quarters cozy and peaceful.  It helped relax me when times were harsh.  A large, queen sized bed lay in the left corner, black satin sheets adorning it, unmade but not unkempt.  Beside the bed was a nightstand that held a small glass lamp, beautifully hand blown in vibrant colors in the shape of a woman’s body.  At the foot of the bed, almost directly in front of the door stood a large bookcase that held dozens upon dozens of books, the range of the works as good as any library.  Behind the door was a desk with a very nice computer on it that had wireless internet service.  There was a pen and a pad lying next to the keyboard.  To the right of the door on the wall was a closet, where my clothes were either hung or carefully folded on the floor in their proper piles.  Since the floor was wooden there was a large rug on the side of the bed, hand crafted from China.  It pictured a large wolf, howling at the full moon from a lonely position above a cascading waterfall.  Another rug was positioned under the desk, but it was a simple black rug with no designs.

“This room takes my breath away,” she complimented.  “Why not do this to the rest of the house?”

“Because I never stay long,” I said forlornly.

“Why?” she asked quietly, turning her head towards me.  I shrugged and looked away.  She smartly let the matter drop. 

“Would you like a shower?” I said, rummaging through my closet to find something she could wear.  I picked a blue t-shirt that would cover her almost down to her knees.  I did not remember ever getting this shirt, for it would be slightly long on me, which made it perfect for her.

“Oh yes!” she exclaimed, blushing as she realized again that she was dressed for sleep, not company.

I handed her the shirt and she took it, thanking me.  She walked to the bathroom and I went to the broom closet that held the water heater.  I banged on it with my fist, not really needing any tools.  It shuttered but grudgingly came to life.  At least she would have hot water. 

When she was done with the shower, she came out of the bathroom, drying her hair still with the towel.  I noticed her before she saw me and I marveled at how she still looked stunning.  Her legs were now visible and I could see the pale smoothness of them, the curvature of muscle in her calves.  She spotted me and smiled.

“You can have my bed,” I said, motioning for her to enter my room.  “I promise there are no diseases or bugs.”

She laughed but I could see a haunted expression in her eyes.  She looked down at her feet, stopping her rubbing with the towel on her head.  “I – umm – have a favor to ask of you,” she said shyly and I knew what she was going to say before she even finished.  “The reason I was out of my home and wandering was because of these goddamn nightmares I have been having for many nights now.  And I know I am being childish, but I just you know want to feel safe and tonight it happened and I just – ”

I cut her off by lifting up her chin.  She was crying, her green eyes revealing fear and vulnerability.  I leaned in and kissed her.  She responded back, timidly.

“Yes,” I said quietly, looking at into her eyes.  I saw the comfort replace the fear, but the vulnerability did not diminish.  “I will hold you until morning or until you wake.”

She sobbed and fell into my arms.  I lifted her easily and carried her into the bedroom.  I placed her on my bed gently before realizing I still had on wet blue jeans.  Cursing to myself silently, I changed into dry boxers quickly, before she even noticed because she was laying with her back to me.  I crawled beside her and tucked my arm underneath her, pulling her body close to me.  I felt her wiggle into me and it was all I could do to keep from becoming aroused as I felt her warmth press against me.  If she had not at least been wearing underwear I do not know what I would have done.  I wrapped my other arm around under her breasts, finishing the hug.

She fell asleep quickly and did not have any nightmares the rest of the night.